Morning light found the ordinary home kitchen, creeping in through the thin curtains. It wasn't the kind of sunny morning Lara was used to or woke up to. For Lara, mornings meant waking up in a mansion or in a hotel. Mornings were temporary and quick.
Not this time. This time, she had a mission. A goal. Something greater than taking out Trinity or some other billion-dollar evil company. This wasn't about tombs. This was about…cooking.
And no, fried fish over a fire did not count as cooking. Crunchy and passable was the criteria here.
Lara Croft's goal was aided by Anne, Mrs. Harrison, her boyfriend's mother. The young sleeves pushed neatly to her forearms, hair tied back again. A bowl of batter sat between them. Lara stirred too carefully, as if the spoon might explode if mishandled.
"You can relax," Mrs. Harrison said, amused.
"S-sorry…" Did Lara just apologize? Yes. Yes, she did, because she made a rightful mistake. She wasn't being coy or quiet about it, she could only own up to it.
"It's breakfast, so remember, it's all in the wrists! Not the arms! It's not supposed to be intense!"
Lara swallowed and nodded. "Understood."
'Not being intense when all I do is be intense is difficult.'
"Soo…" An elbow was put on the table and the mother's smile came into view. "You travel a lot, hm?"
"Yes. For work."
"Well," Mrs. Harrison said, handing her a measuring cup, "it can't be that hard if you have trouble with pancakes."
'Can't be that hard…'
Ha.
Lara accepted the cup with a small smirk. "Apologies, Matthew is much better at this than I am."
Her future mother-in-law laughed. "Oh, I know. I trained him that way."
"You did?"
"Absolutely." The older woman decided to join in and help by cracking an egg with decisive flair. "A man should be able to cook better than any woman. That way he never starves, and he never takes someone for granted."
"That's… very wise."
Mrs. Harrison grinned. "Also, I like eating well."
They worked together easily enough. Pancakes, eggs, and a modest vegetable hash with onions and peppers. Lara peeled potatoes with military precision and still somehow cut them unevenly. She oversalted the eggs and tried to fix it by adding more milk, which only made them sadder. Mrs. Harrison noticed, of course, but said nothing. She simply adjusted the heat, stirred, tasted, and quietly nudged the pan back into something edible.
Lara watched with faint embarrassment. She had negotiated with warlords. She had dismantled ancient traps designed to kill kings. She had never learned how to cook properly, because someone else had always done it, and then later because she was never home long enough to care.
Matthew drifted in halfway through, hair rumpled, wearing an old T-shirt. He kissed his mother's cheek, then Lara's temple.
"Smells good," he said.
"That's generous," Lara murmured.
He grinned. "You're doing great."
His father appeared last, already dressed, already serious. He poured coffee and took a seat at the table without comment.
When breakfast was ready, Mrs. Harrison arranged plates while Lara carried them out with careful balance. Her hands were steady. Her pulse was not.
They sat. The clink of cutlery sounded louder than it should have. Matthew took a bite and smiled immediately.
"This is good," her boyfriend said. His comment made her relax ever so slightly. He was biased but he wasn't that biased.
His father cut into the hash. Chewed. Considered.
Lara held her breath.
"It's… fine," the stern father-in-law said at last.
Mrs. Harrison winced theatrically. "Dear…!"
"It's underseasoned," he added. "And the potatoes could've gone longer."
Lara nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."
"You don't cook, do you?"
Lara winced. Good Lord, this man was observant and tough. 'Sure he's not a god?'
"Apologies..."
He snorted. "You are British. Your kind have no sense of food or taste or seasoning. Really, I have no idea what you offer to my son aside from that ridiculous accent."
Lara's lips fell flat. Her jaw clenched and she would, could, and should have snapped back. But then she looked at her boyfriend and every ounce of rage faded. 'Approval, you're looking for approval. For him.'
She hung her head. "I...apologize. I do." It was all she could say at this point.
"I'm glad you see your shortcomings," he said, and paused long enough to make Matthew tense beside her, "and...I'm glad you tried. That counts for something."
Lara perked up. "Something?"
"It means...you're serious."
"Really?" Matthew and Lara said in unison. Did this mean...?
The older gentleman closed his eyes. He was stereotypically hard and stern, like some evil mother-in-law in a drama. But he opened his eyes and lost some of those hard-edged crinkles near his eyes.
"Mm."
Matthew exhaled like he'd been underwater. His face lit up, unguarded and thrilled. Lara was glad to see him happy because she had no idea what that meant. She assumed it was acceptance. R-right?
"Sir? I'm...I'm thankful, really. I promise to take care of your son. I do. I know my shortcomings. I'm not perfect, I have...a temper. I can be snappy. I don't know how to cook. But...I love Matthew. I have and always will."
Her little speech earned a small exhale from Mr. Harrison. Looking right at Lara, then his son, the old man reached into his pocket and slid an envelope across the table toward his son.
"What's this?" Matthew asked.
Awkwardly, almost shy, he just said, "Open it."
Matthew raised a brow but otherwise did as he was told. Inside were two tickets. It was a reservation to a hotel in a place called Cooper Island. "A suite…?" Matthew murmured. "Dad…t-this is expensive!"
Lara looked over his shoulder. She cocked her head. 'Expensive? This? It's a one-room suite at a four-star hotel…' Lara knew because she had been there before to stay in the better, more luxurious five-star suite. At the time, there was some spywork and—
The other woman in the room began to laugh and Lara returned to attention. "We've been saving up. Thought we'd wait, but—well, it seems right. We like her. We knew you'd bring someone home someday."
"Just not someone like her," Mr. Harrison added.
"We mean someone as pretty as her. A-as you," said Mrs. Harrison, because up until this point, they were acting like she wasn't here.
She was and Lara's heart was leaping. "Thank you, Mrs. Harrison, Mr. Harrison. Really."
Matthew stared, stunned. "Mom...Dad…"
His dad cleared his throat. "You and Lara should enjoy yourselves. Have a vacation. It's not getting easier out there. The world is a mean place, Matthew."
Lara's chest tightened. He was right, it was, and she'd do everything in her power to protect him. She smiled and nodded sincerely. Lara reached for Matthew's hand under the table. He squeezed back.
"Oh, but before you go..." Mrs. Harrison stood up and started giggling, "Don't forget the condoms!"
"Mom…"
Her eyes widened, thrilled. "Oh! Don't tell you already want kids!?"
Matthew struggled to answer that while Lara's hand squeezed tighter as if to say, 'She isn't wrong~!'
***
The two-lane highway stretched out before them, a grey ribbon cutting through sun-drenched fields. The rental car's air conditioning hummed, a soft counterpoint to the rumble of the engine. Lara let her head rest against the seat, a rare, genuine smile on her.
They were going back to New York City, to Matthew's house.
Lara was in tight, stone-washed denim shorts that were frayed at the hems and hugged every curve of her hips and ass and a black ribbed tank top, thin enough to hint at the shape of her bra—or lack thereof—the straps slipping just off her shoulders. Her hair was her classic braid. Yep, the braid, which Mrs. Harrison helped with.
Lara looked relaxed, especially because she wasn't driving. Matthew, in a faded blue t-shirt and jeans, kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting on her denim-clad thigh. His thumb traced small, absent circles. He couldn't stop grinning.
"I still can't believe it," Matthew said, shaking his head for what felt like the tenth time since they'd pulled out of the driveway an hour ago. "My dad gave you approval."
"He said the potatoes were underseasoned," Lara reminded him.
"From him, that's a standing ovation. You have no idea what that means."
"I think I'm starting to." Lara turned her head to look at him. The morning sun caught the gold flecks in his brown eyes. Pride radiated from him, warm and tangible. It was a different kind of treasure, one no tomb had ever yielded.
"I know we're going home first but..."
"Already excited for this trip?"
"Mhm! Never went to a place like Cooper Island before," he went on, squeezing her thigh. "A whole week. Just us. White sand, blue water. We can sleep in. We can do absolutely nothing except everything we want."
"Mmm," Lara hummed. Her hand, which had been resting on the center console, drifted over to his leg. "A whole week of you… and me."
"Exactly. What kind of stuff do they have, I wonder. I did some Googling and there's apparently a couple cafes and stuff. Lots of yachts too. Ah, I bet it's like a rich-person paradise. Well, maybe we'll get lucky, Lara."
"Maybe." Her fingers began a journey up the inside of his thigh. "Paradise sounds lovely," she murmured.
Matthew's smile shifted, becoming a little more fixed. "Lara?"
"Yes, darling?" Her fingers reached the juncture of his thigh and torso, applying a gentle pressure.
"What are you doing?"
"Admiring the view," Lara replied in a highly innocent tone. She leaned across the console, and she planted a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek. At the same moment, her hand slid from his thigh and cupped him through his jeans.
The body knew instantly and he blossomed. It was like his cock just knew her touch, knew her intentions. The shape of his dick was unmistakable even through the stiff fabric. A startled breath hissed between his teeth. The car drifted slightly toward the shoulder before he corrected it.
"Lara, Jesus—I'm driving."
"I know," Lara purred, nuzzling his neck. Her fingers found the button of his jeans, deftly popping it open. The sound of the zipper coming down was loud in the quiet car. "You keep your eyes on the road, Matthew. Let me handle this."
"This is—fuck—this is dangerous," he stammered, but his hips gave a minute, involuntary thrust up into her waiting hand. His cock reacted. His cock twitched.
"Life is dangerous." Her lips brushed his earlobe and her hand slid inside his boxers, cool fingers wrapping around the thick, hot dong. It was already burgeoning, filling her palm. She gave a firm stroke from base to tip, full of that Lara Croft confidence. Oh yes, she had no hesitation about this.
"Lara."
"Shhh. Just drive." She began to jerk him off in earnest. Up and down, up and down, tight and knowing. Her thumb circled the sensitive crown on each upstroke, applying just the right amount of pressure. She could feel him thickening, hardening impossibly further in her hand.
He groaned, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "You're going to make me wreck the car."
"Then pull over," she challenged. She increased her pace, her wrist twisting on the upstroke. "Or don't. I don't mind a bit of excitement."
With her other hand, she tugged his jeans and boxers down further, just enough to free him completely. His cock sprang out, thick and veined and already leaking, the head a flushed, angry red. It bobbed against his stomach, a massive, twelve-inch tower.
A cock like this was not a dime a dozen. A cock like this was one in a billion. A cock like this only belonged to her man.
He exhaled, inhaled, exhaled, inhaled—his eyes darting from the road to her and back. Throb, throb, throb!
Smirking, Lara ducked her head, her hair falling around her face like a curtain. She kissed the weeping tip, a soft, chaste press of her lips. Then her tongue darted out, licking away the salty-bitter pre-cum.
"Mmm! You taste so good. All for me!"
Matthew gasped, but his hips bucked backward, but where was there to go?
"Trying to escape? Not on my watch," she teased, and then she took him into her mouth.
Her mouth was hot, wet, and impossibly clever. She started slow, taking just the head, swirling her tongue around the ridge, sucking gently. Hungrily—and good god, this chick was hungry—she sank deeper and swallowed half his length in one smooth, breathtaking motion. Her cheeks hollowed as she created a fierce suction.
"Oh my god…! L-Lara! Y-you can't just—! R-roadhead…" he choked out, the word sounding absurd even in his lust-addled state. "Y-you're trying this hard?"
She pulled off with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his glistening shaft. "Roadhead," she repeated in her crisp accent, laughing breathlessly. "Sounds so… common. This is a Lara Croft special, love. Pay attention."
Twelve inches of cock was no fucking joke.
Lara Croft was also no fucking joke.
She took him to the hilt and her nose pressed into his public hair. She held him there, in the depths of her throat, for a long, torturous second, her eyes watering slightly. The guttural sound she made—mmmnpfh—showed she did indeed struggle. But, again, she was Lara Croft. She did NOT give up.
Up and down. Twist of the tongue on the ascent. A firm suck on the descent. Her free hand cradled his balls, rolling them gently, then applying a light pressure that made his toes curl in his shoes. She varied the pace—fast, hungry bobs that made his thighs tremble, then agonizingly slow, deep sucks where she'd just hold him, letting him feel every contraction of her throat.
Lara Croft was an archaeologist. She understood structure, pressure points, cause and effect. She applied that knowledge now. A scrape of her teeth just so along the underside made him yelp.
"Lara—!"
Then ecstasy melted him. Made him relaxed. A particular swirl of her tongue over the frenulum had him begging.
"Lara…! Haah…! I'm close…fuck, I'm gonna cum…"
She redoubled her efforts. Her head bobbed furiously. Slap-slap-slap of her lips against his pelvis. Gurgle-shluck as she deepthroated him. Muffled around his girth, it was the most potent aphrodisiac he'd ever known.
"I'm—I'm gonna—!"
He came and a sudden splurt hit the back of her throat. After that first throb, it was a torrent. Cum pulsing out of him in thick, salty ropes.
Pfft, you think Lara would flinch? She swallowed diligently. Gulp, gulp! She took every drop, sucking him through the last shuddering pulses, milking him dry until his cock was twitching weakly inside her throat.
When she pulled off, it was in that classic Lara Croft away. Licking her lips clean with a slow, deliberate swipe of her tongue and a finger breaking apart the cum-saliva webs. She looked up at him, her eyes dark, her lips swollen and shiny. A drop of his cum clung to her chin. She wiped it with a finger and sucked that clean, too.
"Heavenly," Lara pronounced.
Matthew was panting and slumped against the seat. The car was slowing, veering onto the gravel shoulder of a deserted country road. He put it in park, the engine idling.
Lara didn't notice. Not until she noticed his cock twitch. It hadn't softened at all. If anything, it looked bigger, angrier.
Lara's smirk was predatory. She looked from his face to his defiant erection and back again. She knew what that meant. She knew exactly what was next.
"You're going to fuck my brains out, right?"
"Yep."
Matthew killed the engine. He unbuckled his seatbelt and hers. "Get in the back. Now."
Lara didn't need to be told twice. She scrambled over the center console, her tight grey shorts straining as she climbed into the back seat. Matthew followed, his huge cock leading the way. The space was cramped but he didn't care for it, grabbing the back of her skull.
A shiver of pure submission ran through her. She allowed this. She got on her knees and bent forward, presenting her ass to him, her face pressed near the window. The position arched her back perfectly, making the round, firm globes of her ass jut out, encased in the frayed shorts.
And there were no panties underneath.
His hands yanked her shorts down and spread her ass cheeks apart. "Were you that horny?"
She was. She could feel the slickness between her thighs, hear the soft, wet sound as he rubbed the head of his cock through her folds.
"Of course I was. I wasn't able to give my usual morning blowjob. It's such a shame…"
Acting so coy caused a gasp as he shoved his cock to her cunt. It felt impossibly big. "You need this cock splitting you open after you sucked me off like a goddamn porn star?"
"Yes! Yes!"
Come on, come on, come on—
"Unngh!"
Her boyfriend was enormous. Twelve thick, aching inches of cock, stretching her, filling her in a way that bordered on too much. He bottomed out, his pelvis slamming against her ass with a solid thwap!
Fuck, Lara was tight. Matthew grunted, staying buried to the hilt for a second, letting her adjust, letting them both feel each other.
Then he pulled back and slammed home again. And again.
"Unh~! Matthew—! MATTHEW—!"
He didn't tease her. He drove into her in one long, brutal, claiming stroke.
"N-n-not even—gahhh! Mmmppph! G-g-g-good boy—! Good! BOY~!!"
Her eyes rolled back while she smiled proudly. Matthew wasn't being a goody-two-shoes. Matthew was implementing what she had been teaching him. A warm-up? A slow pace? Lara Croft had drilled Matthew into rejecting such notions when he wanted. Don't get it twisted, she liked slow. She liked him doing what he did.
"Oh! Lord! Have! Mercy!"
But this was what Lara wanted. This was a fucking, pure and simple. Each powerful thrust rocked her entire body forward, cheeks pushed against he car window, making her hands spread wide.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
"You're such a good slut!" he snarled, his hands digging into the flesh of her hips, holding her in place for his ravaging. "Aren't you? Aren't you!?"
"Yes!" she screamed, the force of his thrusts jolting the answer from her. "Yes, Matthew, I'm your slut! I'm your good fucking slut!"
"That was right. The great Lara Croft, on her knees, taking this ordinary man's cock like she was born for it. She loved this. She loved being his fucking whore because he didn't realize how much of a non-whore the world thought her as. Everyone believed she was the greatest adventurer in the world.
But for Matthew? Lara Croft was just his girlfriend. His horny, bitchy slut to fuck.
"I love it! I love you! I love your cock!" Lara was sincere. Lara was mindless with pleasure. Both could be true. His length rubbed against a spot deep inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids. The fat, thick invasion of him was ruining her for any other man, and she welcomed the ruin.
His grunts and growls. Her high, keening moans, stifled against the leather seat.
"Mmmph! Ohgod! Ohgodohgod—cummiiiing~!!"
Her face and hands were splayed on the window. Well, guess time for something new. One by one, Matthew pulled her hands and then her head and had her lay flat on the leather seats of the car. It was meant for two people. The car was small, after all.
PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—!
Fucking her pronebone, he shifted his angle slightly, and it was like he found a new layer of her to destroy. The head of his cock now raked directly over her G-spot with every inward plunge.
"Oh, fuck, right there!" Lara shrieked. Her cunt clenched around him in a series of frantic, fluttering spasms. An orgasm ripped through her, violent and overwhelming. Her vision whited out. Pleasure, hot and electric, flooded every nerve ending. "Cumming!"
Matthew never slowed his pace. He was fucking her through it, his cock becoming slicker with her juices.
"H-how many times can you fuck me, s-s-stud!? How many times can you make me cum!? Hm!? Hm!?"
The answer was: many. The first climax seemed to have opened a floodgate. The relentless, deep, pronebone fucking—her favorite, she realized distantly, because it allowed him to go so deep, because she felt so helpless and owned.
"CUMMIIIIING~!!"
This one was a shorter, sharper peak that made her cunt spasm, and it did nothing to slow him. Matthew was a machine. His hips hammered into her ass with unflagging power. Her ass cheeks jiggled and reddened with each impactful thwack.
It was sweaty, hot, and dominant. One-sided, really. The car fogged up with their heat.
"You take this cock so well," he praised, and Lara was shocked and grinning when she heard it. "Such a good fucking hole for me. Made for me."
"Made for you!" she gasped out, lips barely visibly. Another orgasm was building, this one deeper, more consuming. It started as a tremor in her thighs, a desperate clenching in her core. "I'm gonna… again… Matthew!"
He grunted, he thrust, and she dissolved into another climax. This one was a long, drawn-out unraveling. Lara shook uncontrollably. Her cunt rippled around his invading length in endless waves.
He was throbbing. Meaning, he was close. CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! From the corner of her eye, she saw his fist, buried to the sides of her temple, twisting. He was chasing his own finish, using her thoroughly wrecked pussy to get there.
"Y-you young stud, you better cum inside!"
"Now you always want it inside, huh?"
"Y-yes! Ngggh~!" Lara was trying to play up her adventurer side, but it was just impossible with him. "P-pleeease! Matthew, love, I-I just want to—I just—this is babymaking sex!"
Matthew laughed and he came. Eyes rolling back, smiling, she was glad. It was a continuous, pumping stream. Gurgling and filling her womb. Claiming her in the most fundamental way possible. He ground his hips against her ass, forcing every last drop as deep as it would go.
Lara took it. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth hanging open. A thin line of saliva escaped her lips. The sensation of his cum, hot and abundant, spilling inside her, mixing with her own copious wetness, was the perfect punctuation to her surrender. To their future.
"My mannn…!"
Lara Croft felt owned. She felt loved. She felt fucked beyond all reason.
Gently, he placed his sweat-slick chest down on her back, his softening-but-still-substantial cock still lodged inside her. They stayed like that for long minutes. Why move? They had pulled over and, well, the tickets didn't have a specific date, just a season. They had all the time in the world to get home.
"Say, Lara, I know we said we should first go to my place but…"
He turned her around, his hands gentle now. He cupped her face, wiping the saliva from her chin, brushing the tangled hair from her eyes. He looked into her dazed, satiated face.
"Want to go to Cooper Island first?"
Lara managed a weak, blissed-out smile. "Haah…yesssh…!"
Looks like they were in agreement then. Lara closed her eyes as he kissed her and made out with her. Boyfriend and girlfriend, going to what was effectively their honeymoon. It was going to be great.
Well, after they fucked her two more times.
***
It was midnight. Five hours had passed since then. The mighty Lara Croft lay draped across the back seat, her bare legs tangled in her discarded shorts, a contented ache thrumming in her core where his creamy seed ravaged her cunt. Matthew, in the front passenger seat, was out cold, his head lolled against the window. He had pretty much fucked her silly, then went to sleep.
To be pulled over on a highway in the middle of the night, no offence, was suspicious.
The intrusion was sudden and glaring. Twin beams of harsh, white light sliced through the rear windshield, flooding the car's interior. A siren whooped once, short and authoritative.
Lara's eyes snapped open. Instinct, older and more ingrained than any domestic bliss, took over. She assessed without moving her head. Police cruiser. Parked behind them, lights strobing. Matthew slept on, oblivious.
'He's a heavy sleeper.' She smiled to herself. 'In a good way. I was once able to fight off a bunch of those stupid agents when they broke into his house.'
She watched in the side mirror as two uniformed figures emerged from the cruiser. Young, local deputies by the look of their bearing. They approached the rental car with cautious, steps, flashlights sweeping over the fogged-up windows.
A problem. A noise complaint? Unlikely on this deserted stretch. Not to mention, if there was noise, it was just sex. Who fucking cares? Bet it was common anyway. Probably just a routine check of a parked car. But Matthew waking up to flashing lights and questions… questions that could lead to background checks, to her name ringing bells in databases she preferred stayed quiet. Her past—the classified digs, the "acquired" artifacts, the bodies left in tombs—was a ghost she couldn't exorcise, only outrun. She couldn't let it haunt this, haunt him.
A plan crystallized in an instant.
Moving with the silent grace of a panther, she put on her shorts while slipping her tank top off over her head. Naked except for her sandals and shorts, she eased the driver's side door open and stepped out into the cool night air.
The two deputies froze, their flashlights locking onto her. Their jaws went slack.
She stood there, bathed in their headlights and the cruiser's rack lights. The night air raised goosebumps on her skin, making her nipples peak into hard, dusky points. Her 36D breasts were what they were—iconic and eye-drawing. The pale globes looked almost luminous against the darkness. Her braided hair was mussed from sleep and sex, tendrils escaping to frame a face that was both aristocratic and fiercely alert.
Lara crossed her arms under her breasts, not to cover them, but to lift them, presenting them.
"Evening, officers," Lara said, her crisp British accent cutting through the static of their radios. "Ah, apologies for this! I was, ah, it was dark."
They stared. Their eyes, wide and stunned, danced wildly—trying to maintain professional eye contact, failing, dipping to her tits, snapping back to her face, dipping again. One, a blonde with a baby-face, actually took a step back. The other, older with a thin mustache, swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.
"Ma'am," Mustache Cop stammered. "You, uh… you're… you're not dressed."
"As I said, I apologize," Lara said, a slow, cocky smile spreading on her lips. She uncrossed her arms, letting her breasts hang free. "My tits are down here, gentlemen. They're 36Ds." She gave a slight, deliberate jiggle. It had them hypnotized or at least close to it.
Both men made strangled noises. Their flashlights trembled.
"What are you… doing out here?" Baby-face managed, his voice an octave too high.
"Road trip," Lara said smoothly, taking a casual step closer. She could smell their cheap cologne and nervous sweat. "With my boyfriend. He's sleeping in the driver's seat. We're heading to the city, then on to our honeymoon." She leaned forward slightly, emphasizing her cleavage. "He's quite the stud. I'm afraid he rather… wore me out. Makes me ditzy. I was just getting some air before he wakes up and blows my mind again."
She winked. It was a calculated seduction. A performance designed to fluster, to charm, to make them laugh nervously and send them on their way with a warning and a story for the locker room.
But she'd misjudged her audience. Their faces didn't soften with understanding or embarrassment. Instead, their shock curdled into something else. A hungry, stupid hope. Their eyes glazed over with a fantasy she hadn't intended to sell. They thought this was an invitation. They thought the legendary Lara Croft, topless on a dark road, was flirting.
She saw it in the way Mustache Cop's hand drifted unconsciously to his belt. In the way Baby-face's tongue darted out to wet his lips. 'Oh, for God's sake. Idiots.'
"Your… boyfriend, huh?" Mustache said, dropping to a leer. "Asleep? Lucky him. Maybe you should… come with us. Make sure your ID is in order."
"I assure you, officer, everything is in perfect order," Lara said, her tone cooling several degrees. She took another step. They were close now. Too close.
And then she saw it. The telltale bulge. In Mustache's trousers, a modest tent had formed. Baby-face, shifting his weight, also revealed a pathetic little ridge in his uniform pants. Her archaeological eye catalogued the details instantly. 'Small. Probably four, five inches at best. Thin. Balls likely tight and unimpressive.'
A wave of contempt washed over her. Good Lord, she should have just knocked them out from the get-go. These pathetic, hard-on wielding bureaucrats thought they could intimidate—or worse, interest—her. She'd just had twelve inches of glorious, thick, veined dick splitting her in two. She'd just swallowed a load that could fill a shot glass. The comparison was so absurd it was almost funny.
A laugh bubbled up in her chest. A short, sharp, derisive ha! escaped her before she could stop it.
Both cops flinched. Their expressions morphed from lust to confusion to wounded pride.
"What are you laughing at?" Baby-face demanded.
Lara shook her head, her smile now openly mocking. "Sorry. It's just… perspective is a wonderful thing."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Mustache growled, his hand now firmly on his belt near his baton.
"It means," Lara sighed, the last of her patience evaporating, "that you gentlemen are sadly, hilariously out of your depth."
As Mustache Cop puffed out his chest to retort, she pivoted on her bare heel and drove the ball of her foot upwards between his legs with piston-force. A high-pitched, airless squeak whistled from his lips. His eyes bulged. He crumpled forward, clutching his obliterated crotch, his tiny, would-be erection utterly forgotten in a world of nauseating agony.
Baby-face gaped for half a second. He didn't think to touch his radio. "Idiot." Lara didn't give him the chance. She spun, using the momentum to launch a roundhouse kick. Her foot, all hardened muscle and bone, connected with his temple with a dull crack. His eyes rolled back. He dropped like a sack of potatoes, unconscious before he hit the gravel.
Silence returned, broken only by Mustache's wet, retching moans as he curled into the fetal position. Lara stood over them and shook her head. "I really can't believe I wasted my time on this." She bent down, efficiently patted them down, and took their keys. She knocked out the Mustache cop with his own baton. Sighing, she hoisted each man under the arms and hauled them back to their cruiser. She dumped them into the front seats, buckling Mustache in beside his unconscious partner. She took their radios and tossed them into the field beside the road.
"You'll think you got too drunk or something."
She was turning back to the rental car, the keys in her hand, when she saw movement inside the car.
Matthew stirred. A long, sleepy yawn contorted his handsome face. He stretched his arms, blinked, and looked out the window.
Right at her.
Lara froze, her mind racing. The cruiser was behind her, its lights off now, but its shape was a dark lump in the periphery. If he looked past her…
'He knows I'm an archeologist and that I can fight, but knock out TWO cops?'
What she was so afraid of, she did not really understand. All she knew was that she got nervous when his gaze was locked on her. His sleepy confusion cleared.
His girlfriend was definitely outside and definitely topless.
'Distract. Now.'
Lara did a little, seemingly spontaneous hop, bouncing on the balls of her feet. The motion made her magnificent breasts jiggle and sway in a captivating dance. Jiggle, jiggle, jiggle. It was beautiful from a certain point of view.
Matthew's reaction was instantaneous and magnificent. Through the windshield, she saw his hand go to his lap. Saw his cock lift and then rise. Like a fucking flagpole. His twelve-inches-of-absolute-perfection cock announced itself, thickening and lengthening and very much parallel to the base of the window.
'Lord have mercy.'
Her own cunt clenched in visceral memory. She couldn't even recall the pathetic size of the cops' little nubs. The comparison was laughable. 'But thank the Lord I have such good taste in men.'
He gestured with a finger, a come-hither motion. His eyes burned.
Lara walked to the car, to where he was, and slid in. Like some common slut for a mob boss, she laced her arms around him. "Sorry," she murmured, her voice a husky whisper. "Had to pee."
The car became their world again. They were face to face, her breasts almost level with his mouth.
His hands came up to cradle them, his thumbs brushing her nipples. A shuddering breath escaped her.
Lara felt his cock rub up and down her ass. It really was an impressive thing. She started smirking again, her gaze intense, loving, and utterly carnal. "So… wanna fuck?"
He grinned, a wild, eager thing. "Lara Croft, I will never pass on the opportunity to fuck you."
"Good."
The car didn't stop moving for another four hours. For those that passed by, they heard shrieks of, "CUMMIIIING~!" and "FUCK ME ! RIGHT THERE! OH GOD–!"
Any adult that overheard them got the feeling that the woman inside had been chanting and moaning like that for more than an hour…
***
Cooper Island was among the British Virgin Islands in the Caribbean. It was rather small, but known for two things: the Cooper Island Beach Club and the yachts that permeated around the island. Scuba drivers were also fairly popular, but really, it was rich-person galore. And rich people liked to drive on yachts more than they liked to go scuba diving.
Lara Croft was both—and she wanted to surprise her boyfriend with that.
Matthew had been standing at the edge of the beach long enough. Alone, the beach was only so fun. The day was warm but not punishing, the kind of coastal weather that felt kind. Pale blue sky, slow clouds, the ocean stretched out patiently. There were zero waves. No wonder rich folks liked to drive their yachts. Calmer seas, faster speeds.
The young boyfriend had a towel slung over one shoulder, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, and the faint, jittery excitement of someone waiting for a surprise he knew was coming but didn't know how.
After checking into their suite, Lara had insisted on departing separately. Honestly, he had no idea what she was up to. Had she been here before or something? If she had, then that was a welcome surprise. Although that did beg the question of why and with who…
Ah well. Matthew smiled in anticipation. "Knowing Lara, I bet there's a fancy, British explanation."
So he waited.
At first, all he heard was water. The steady hush of waves folding in on themselves. Then, faintly, a low engine note. Matthew shaded his eyes and scanned the horizon.
"Ohh…no way…"
A yacht, or at least a small one, white hull catching the sun, moving at an easy, confident pace. It wasn't showy. No blaring music, no crowd on deck waving drinks. Just a clean silhouette and a wake that fanned out behind it like brushed silk. As it drew closer, he could see the way it handled the water, controlled and smooth, like whoever was at the helm actually knew what they were doing.
The engine throttled down. The sound softened. The yacht glided, almost lazily now, angling toward the shallows without rushing them. Matthew's heartbeat picked up anyway.
His girlfriend was at the controls, one hand steady on the wheel. Lara Croft, in the flesh, framed by sun and sea, driving straight toward him like this was the most natural thing in the world.
Matthew laughed under his breath. Of course she was the one piloting it.
She wore a wetsuit, dark green-blue and fitted, and loving her figure without apology. Yellow accents ran cleanly down the sides. Her cleavage was showing, because duh, she was Lara. Her hair was pulled back, damp at the edges, a few loose strands escaping to cling to her cheek. Sunglasses hid her eyes, but he knew the expression anyway.
The yacht nudged closer and the engine dropped to a gentle idle. Water lapped against the hull. Lara eased it in like she was docking in her sleep.
Matthew stood there, grinning like an idiot.
When she finally cut the engine and looked at him, Lara lifted her sunglasses just enough to meet his eyes. "You waiting long?"
"Only my entire life," he said, and meant the last twenty minutes, but the way she smiled made it feel bigger than that.
Matthew waded into the water without thinking. It was cool around his ankles, then his calves. He reached the hull just and Lara extended a hand.
"Couldn't wait for me to dock properly?"
"Nope!" He took her hand and climbed aboard with less grace than he would've liked, managing not to fall only because she steadied him, one hand at his arm, the other at his back.
Once he was on deck, he straightened and looked at her properly. Really looked.
Up close, it was damn tight. His gaze dropped, drawn inevitably down the yellow accent lines that arrowed past her ribs, cinched at her narrow waist, and then flared—God, did they flare—over the full, pronounced curve of her hips. And, uh, her bootycheeks. Wow. The neoprene was like a damn thong in the way it was cut, leaving nothing to imagination, showcasing her ass' powerful, rounded shape and obviously showing that there were no panties underneath.
What was the official term for this kind of wetsuit? Thong wetsuit or, wait, no, t-back wetsuit.
Well, whoever made it was a bloody genius.
The reaction was immediate.
A surge of blood flooded south and his swim trunks were suddenly inadequate. His cock, already half-aroused just from the anticipation of seeing her, went from interested to fully, achingly erect in the space between one heartbeat and the next. It wasn't a gentle rise. It rocketed up. A thick, heavy lengthening and swelling that strained the thin fabric into a blatant, manly tent. The material pulled tight, the seam protesting, the outline obscenely clear. Twelve inches couldn't be denied or ignored or hidden. His fat cock jutted forward, aimed almost directly at her, the tip pressing against the damp cotton with such insistence it was a miracle it didn't tear.
He saw Lara's eyes, just visible over the rim of her sunglasses which she'd pushed back up, track down. They widened. A flicker of shock, then something hotter, darker, swam in the brown depths. Lara's lips parted slightly.
"M-Matthew!" Her voice was a hushed, scandalized whisper, the British accent clipping the syllables, making his name sound like a curse and a prayer. Her cheeks flushed, a rosy hue spreading beneath her tan. "Already—you! You and t-that ridiculous cock of yours!"
It throbbed in agreement. A pulse of need that made the tent in his trunks twitch visibly. A warm, wet spot of pre-cum immediately bloomed on the light blue fabric, a dark, damp circle right at the tip.
He couldn't look away from her face. The mix of exasperation and raw hunger there was more intoxicating than any liquor. "Saying it in that sexy British accent of yours is a little…" he trailed off. He wasn't a growler, he didn't swear, but the sheer, overwhelming horniness made his words thick. "…unfair."
Lara huffed, a sharp exhale through her nose. She tore her gaze away from the prominent bulge, her professional demeanor slamming back into place like a bulkhead door. "Right. Well. Don't just stand there like a… a mast. Help me with the lines."
But he saw the way her breath hitched. He saw the quick glance she stole as she turned sharply on her heel, the way her own posture seemed to tighten, her back arching just a fraction more.
She moved to the console, her hands gripping the wheel. She started the engine again, the low thrum vibrating up through the deck and into their feet. The yacht began to turn, angling away from the shore, pointing its nose toward the deeper, empty blue.
Matthew followed. He couldn't not. The deck was spacious, but he felt magnetized to her. He came up behind her as she concentrated on the horizon, one hand on the throttle, the other resting lightly on the wheel. He stood right behind her. Literally right behind, hardly an inch away.
Dating Lara Croft, what man would stay away?
His hands came up of their own volition. They settled on her hips first, his fingers tracing the hard curve of bone through the suit. Then they slid up, over the dramatic taper of her waist, and cupped the full, heavy swell of her breasts.
Even through the thick material, he could feel their weight, their perfect shape. He palmed them, his thumbs finding her stiff nipples, already tight and prominent against the neoprene. He squeezed, gently at first, then with more pressure, feeling the give of her flesh, the way her breath caught.
"Matthew," she called out in a moan, trying for sternness and missing by a mile. She didn't push his hands away. She adjusted the throttle instead, the boat picking up a little speed, wind whipping the loose strands of hair around her face.
"So, about this yacht?" Matthew murmured into the shell of her ear. . He teased one nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it. He felt her shudder. "Where'd you get it, babe?"
"Nggh, asking me like this…"
While groping her tits? Yep, this was just the rational reaction to Lara in a wetsuit.
"Come on, we're talking, right? Let's talk~"
"I bought it," Lara said, forcing the words out. Her knuckles were white on the wheel. "Just now. I had a contact."
"A contact? How?"
"I, err," she flushed, "it was…it was a fight. And I saved the hotel manager."
"You saved someone's life? I know you know how to fight, but…what, are you like a CIA agent or something?"
"N-no, more like…a Tomb Raider."
"A what?"
"I raid…tombs. And sometimes end up saving people. Sometimes don't. It's…it's complicated."
"Doesn't seem complicated to me," he said idly, his other hand kneading her breast. His own cock was a burning rod of need, pressing against the small of her back through his trunks and her suit. He rocked his hips forward, just a tiny, subtle grind, and heard her gasp.
"I-it is, more than you think. The hotel was attacked and t-there was an excavation. The manager couldn't get away so I helped."
"Huh? An attack? Like—"
"With guns, yes."
Now he was listening. Although, frankly, it was hard to be earnest and serious about it when he was still groping her tits.
"They were mercenaries." She was trying to explain, to be serious, but her sentences were becoming fractured. "They wanted the… the artifact I found in the sea here. A ceremonial dagger. Pre-Incan, inlaid with…"
Oh god, don't stop…!
"...with emeralds."
"Ah…" He didn't stop. He pinched her nipple harder, through the suit, and she moaned, her head falling back against his shoulder for a second before she snapped it forward, eyes on the water. "But you fought mercenaries with guns?" he asked, genuinely impressed. The horniness was a roaring fire in his erection, but her words were fanning a different kind of flame—awe. This woman. His woman.
"I have a pair myself. I, uh, I brought them here."
"Guess you'll show me later?"
She moaned a little. Y-yes, later.
"But the manager…how'd you escape exactly? Was it just you kicking ass or something?"
"N-no, I drove a jeep off a ravine to lose them a-and got through an underground cenote." Each sentence was punctuated by his touch, by his hands massaging her breasts, by the pressure of his erection against her. "I-it was tough. See, the dagger was incomplete without its sheathe and there was a limit on how long the cenote would exist and—ngggh! Okay, let's just say the dagger is in my mansion now?"
"Mansion?" He was hard as titanium, pre-cum soaking a larger patch on his trunks, but he was also listening, truly hearing her for the first time. The pieces clicked. The mysterious absences. The odd phone calls at strange hours. The incredible fitness. The unshakeable calm. "Right, you did mention living in a big house and you showed me some interior photos but…"
She let out a shaky laugh. "Yep, that's the mansion. My father's originally."
"So…you're born rich," he finished, his hands stilling for a moment, holding her. "And you do…tomb raiding?"
She nodded, the movement jerky. "I…wanted to tell you before. But, well…now I've told you. I suppose that's what matters, right?"
He turned her in his arms, finally. The boat was on a straight course, the autopilot likely engaged. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen from where she'd been biting them. Her eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with a mix of adrenaline and desire.
He was genuinely, profoundly impressed. Humbled, even. And it made him want her more than ever. The cognitive dissonance was exquisite: his mind impressed and his schlong screaming to be inside her.
"You're right. You told me now and I'm happy," he said, simple and sincere. Then he kissed her.
The kiss was a seal on everything she'd just revealed. Her mouth opened under his instantly, her tongue tangling with his. Her hands came up, gripping his shoulders, then sliding down his back, fingers digging into his muscles. One hand slid lower, over the swell of his ass, and then around to the front. Her fingers brushed the monstrous tent in his trunks.
Lara's eyes flew open, locking with his. There was no more pretense. Her fingers traced the staggering length and girth through the wet cotton. She swallowed hard and smirked a little. "Matthew, I've seen some treasures in my life but this thing…"
"Yours," he said, his voice cracking. "It's always been yours."
That was all the permission she needed. Or maybe it was the permission she'd been waiting to give herself.
It started right there at the helm. Lara, with a feral look he'd never seen, unzipped the back of her wetsuit. It parted with a sticky, rasping sound, her breasts spilling out. She didn't bother taking the suit off her shoulders, just let it hang open as she sank to her knees on the teak deck.
Her eyes never left his as she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his swim trunks and pulled them down. Thwap! His dick bounced out with a trampoline. Even having felt it through the swim trunks, seeing it was a revelation, a shock that tightened her chest and made her mouth water.
"Feels like it gets bigger everytime I see it~!"
A steady, clear bead of pre-cum welled from the slit, trembling before it traced a slick path down the underside.
"Bloody hell," Lara whispered, smirking. "You're lucky that I'm your woman, stud~!"
Afterall, she didn't start with a tentative lick. Lara Croft opened wide, committed, taking as much of the massive head as she could, her lips stretching obscenely around the impossible girth. Her tongue, flat and hot, swirled around the sensitive frenulum, and Matthew's knees almost buckled. A low, punched-out groan left his throat.
"God, Lara…!"
He tangled his hands in her braided hair, not guiding, just holding on as she began to bob her head, taking another inch, then another, her cheeks hollowing with fierce, wet suction.
Deeper, deeper, deeper. Already, she had taken ten inches. But, this time around, she didn't only want to deepthroat. She was going for something different. She focused on the first five inches, sucking him like she was pulling the very life from him, with a focused, archaeological intensity.
Mrs. Divine Braids suddenly slurped his cock out of her lips, however, just so she could ask, "Want me to use my hands or not?"
"H-huh? Uhh…"
Spurt, spurt! Small strings of pre-cum landed on her cheek. Lara rolled her eyes. "Ah, I see. My apologies, I underestimated how full your balls are. No hands it is!"
Her throat swallowed his dick and slid in deep. Not gagging in the slightest, her mouth pumped his cock from tip to base, tip to base. All twelve inches like they were nothing.
This was Lara Croft.
This was a woman that trained, that was talented, and that had defeated gods.
"Lara! I'm gonna—fuck!"
Of course he was going to cum fast. Of course Lara wasn't going to pull away. She took it. She fucking demanded it.
"Mmmpppph~!!"
There was love and excitement in it too. The first load of the day. It was gluey and white, more than any person could reasonably swallow. It pooled in her mouth, a salty, musky flood that overflowed, streaming down her neck and onto her bare chest. She kept sucking, kept swallowing, milking him with her mouth only.
She obviously failed to swallow it all. So what?
'That's my darling for you~!'
There was no doubt he was a stud. There was no doubt he was worth of the Tomb Raider. Lara pulled off with a soft, wet pop, a thick, ropy strand of white connecting her swollen lips to his oversensitive crown of the most treasured penis in the world.
Lara looked up at him, her chin and the valley between her breasts slick with his creamy nut, her eyes triumphant and feral. "Lovely," she purred.
"Y-you too…"
What else could Matthew say or do but stare at her with his dick hard?
Lara rose, smirking, and shoved the wetsuit down past her hips, stepping out of it and kicking the black neoprene aside. She was nude now.
"Um, Lara?"
"Yes?" Hands on her hips, Lara proudly smirked and let him relish her figure.
"Can you, uh, put the wetsuit back on? I kinda like it…"
She should have chided and told him no. To be okay with fucking her nude. But, well…
"...fine."
Like some tamed bitch, Lara chased after her discarded wetsuit and put it back on. She saw his dick twitching and dripping with pre-cum the whole time too. Sighing with a smile, she bent over on the console and presented her incredible ass to him. The cheeks were full, rounded in the thong-esque wetsuit. A finger lifted the ribbon that covered her cunt and nudged him with her head.
"You got what you wanted. Now, I need that monstrous cock inside me. I need you to ruin this tight little cunt."
The supernatural, lust-fueled cock looked larger than she thought possible. Lara felt like squealing at it. When he walked, his cock bounced. When he got close, it was already to her cunt.
He only had to thrust his hips forward to sheathe himself inside.
"Yeesssss~!!"
The smile and the cry she let out was ripped from her soul, a sharp, echoing scream that carried over the empty water. She was tight, incredibly, almost virginally tight, but soaking wet.
"C-come on, honey," Lara panted out, feeling like a woman on an island with nothing but a bow and arrow, "Keep at it~!"
He pulled back until just the head remained, then slamming home again. His hands gripped the toned booty. Her eyes widened. Her smile grew.
"Yes—!"
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
"More! Oh yes, right fucking theeere! Thereeee~!!"
Her smile and her taunts underscored her choked, desperate cries. Lara was levitating. Lara was getting the backshots of her life. All these years, she could never relax. But with Matthew, with this stud with a cock that kissed her womb and balls that made her ass feel light, everything felt right.
Her eyes rolled back and with a smile she declared, "I love this cock~!" Her head dropped between her shoulders, her braid swinging. "I love it SO much! It's so deep! You're SO good! You're so good, you're so good, you're so—"
She climaxed. Oh no doubt about it, her pussy muscles clamped down on this monster dick hard. Was cumming this early a shame? No, Matthew himself struggled to control himself, so what was wrong with her having the same issue?
Her legs shook. Her mouth opened. She—
'No way—!'
Lara Croft squirted.
Her head tilted back again. Gasping and moaning, in what felt like a vibrating tone, she called out, "Fuuuuck meeee! Fuuuuuck meeee aaaas haaaard as yooooouu caaaaan!!"
Backshot, backshot, backshot!
That was why she sounded like that. Matthew, god bless his heart, didn't slow down when she squirted. He fucked her through it. "Lara…! Lara! I'm gonna fill you up soon!" Soon meant now! He gasped, thick with a horniness so profound it stripped away everything but need.
"Do it!" Slam! She was no ordinary slut, she was an athletic and tough slut! Slamming her ass back against him and taking him whole again. "Fill my cunt! Pump your fucking cum inside me, stud!"
In a grinding thrust, he buried himself as deep as he could go and came. He groaned, long and low, his body shaking as he unloaded what felt like pints of seed inside her. She cried out again, multiple weaker orgasms triggering.
"G-good Lord! Lord! Oh gooooddd!" All her life, Lara wasn't sure if she believed in God. The God with a capital G, a god with genuine omnipotence and omnipresence and endless kindness. She fought gods. She wasn't convinced by them.
But there had to be something out there to bless a man like this. There just HAD to be. To make him and then pair him with her…
"G-good boy. J-just like that." He was still pumping and emptying inside her. Both hands on her cheeks, sinking inside as the stud himself sighed and let himself go. "You make me feel so slutty…ngggh…"
"Haah…." Matthew didn't hear that last remark and started to tug his cock out. Took a couple jerks but he did it and Lara whimpered.
To pretend that she didn't whimper, Lara turned herself around, leaning on the console. She gasped for air and faked a smile, "C-c-cumming so fast, where's your control?" Lara was going to add love but ran out of air.
"Erm, Lara?" He pointed. "Your legs are shaking."
Cartoonishly shaking too. Lara huffed and looked away. "T-that's…"
"Alrighty!" He scooped her up and Lara yelped. No man had EVER picked her up in a princess carry. "Let's keep fucking!"
…she didn't mind it.
Matthew took them to the wide, padded sunbed at the stern. He put Lara down first, then himself second. He actually laid down, the sun hot on his skin and smiled, waiting.
"Making me work so hard?" Lara huffed and pretended to be annoyed when she straddled him. She guided his cock, remaining at its full, terrifying size, to her cunt. Cum was still pouring out, huge globs of it.
Then she sank down, slowly, agonizingly, inch by monstrous inch. Her smile turned into a smirk, then a whimper—
"N-n-not a whimper!"
Matthew snickered. "Right…"
She chewed on her bottom lip, trying not to seem weak. "I-i-it just takes some adjustment." Once the full twelve inches were inside, she began to ride him. Not just up and down, but with a grinding, circular motion. The tight, muscular clutch of her cunt wasn't to be underestimated.
"You feel that?" she moaned. The wetsuit was still on so her tits didn't jiggle as much. Just like he wanted. This was a nice change of pace. A really nice change of pace.
Oh fuck, she clamped up…!
"Y-yeah! Ngggh!" Arms behind his head, he let Lara fuck him. Who wouldn't? This babe was confident and strong. She knew how to drop down on dick. She knew how to ride, if not by experience then from talent.
"G-good! You feel how tight my little pussy is for you? How it's never gonna be the same? You've fucking broken it, Matthew. It's yours now. It'll always be loose and hungry for this cock."
Lara came twice like that. Just riding his dick, just smiling and letting herself dominate.
"Mm, your fat balls feel so full~!"
Her hands reached back and started to caress his hefty pouch. Together, they were able to envelop the ball-bag and give it a much needed touch.
"A woman's touch will make it allll better!"
And it did—by making his cock react and twitch. "L-Lara…!"
"Aww, am I too tight?"
"Gah!"
"I want to hear it, Matthew! This pussy—it's the best, right?"
"I-it is! It really is!" Matthew's hands slapped onto her booty cheeks. Thank fucking god this kind of wetsuit was invented. The tsunami-waves of her ass were a delight.
"I want every last drop of your balls!"
"Lara!"
"Come on!" Up and down, up and down, and then her pussy started rolling in circles. "I make my own luck! Making you cum—" Matthew groaned and his eyes closed. "Should be what I do! What a woman does for her man!"
Except this woman was a straight alpha, dropping down on his dick while cradling his nutsack with her hands. Lara was smirking, mightily confident, and then—
"Cumming!"
Squeezed his balls when Matthew declared his second creampie. Her head tilted back and she stared up at the blue skies.
Lara Croft was cumming and her boyfriend was cumming inside her. This was dangerous. This could lead to pregnancy—
Oh, wait.
She had already resigned herself to that.
So she smiled and let it happen naturally.
When he was done, his eyes opened. Lara was also looking down at him.
"So…"
"Not empty yet," Matthew answered before she could say it, smiling. "I'm so happy that you're willing to try though."
You know what was funny? Matthew wasn't being arrogant. He was rightfully pointing to all her previous attempts in trying to "empty" him. To beat him in bed.
They had all failed. All of them. Lara had never, ever managed to make her boyfriend submit in defeat.
He was the only man in history to claim this and be able to walk.
Hell, the only man allowed to flip Lara onto her hands and knees and start fucking her brains out.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
The yacht was adrift now, engine off, bobbing gently in the swells. The only sounds were their panting, the lap of water, and the slap of skin on skin.
"Unh! Unh! Nnnnnhhh! M-Matthew! Y-you stud! I'm all yours tonight!"
"Uh-huh!"
Slam, slam, slam! She gasped. She moaned.
"F-fucking me in such a rush—!"
One hand fisted in her braid and tugged her head back, arching her spine beautifully. The other gripped the rail for leverage.
"Y-y-you'll wring yourself out!" A complete lie. He had more than enough stamina to fuck for hours. Somehow. She had no idea how that worked. She was very confident he did do marathon sports. He just good at fucking for some divine reason.
Ah well.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
It was great for her.
*********
FULL PART ON PATREON!